Dan Post
by rhyejess
Summary: Canon oneshot, Jack and Lureen, and an old pair of boots.


**AN:** For Alexis, who gave _me_ a hug in the form of Dan Post.  
**Disclaimer: **The characters do not belong to me and I make no profit from them.

Dan Post 

Lureen felt color creep across her cheeks as she smiled up into his face.

"Yeah. Real lizardfoot. Look, got a ridin' heel." Jack's hands were in his pockets and he looked nervous, sweaty. It was their first Christmas married, Lureen showin' pretty well with the baby, and he looked like he just might shake out a his own boots on account of her new ones. They were Dan Post.

"They're real nice, Jack. Can't a been cheap."

"No. Well, probably cheaper than jewelry. Look, I knew you was wanting that ring, but when I went by they sold it already, and I couldn't think what else..."

"Oh calm down, these are just fine. They're nice. Look, the ring was real pretty, but these are just as good. Sit down will ya? You're makin' me nervous."

Jack swiped the heels of his hands across his jeans and smiled down at her once more time, before settling uneasily onto the nearly-white floral couch in his dirty jeans.

A moment of struggling to try the boots on over her pregnant belly, and Jack dropped to one knee to help her. They were lovely boots, really were. Probably more useful than jewelry, anyhow, even though she could already guess her mom would say that jewelry was the proper gift for a wife. Lureen was touched by Jack mentioning the heel. She knew she wouldn't have so much time left to ride as a new mom, but Jack was letting her know that he didn't intend for her to stop being who she was on account of him or a baby. He was pulling the boots roughly over her pregnant ankles, and she watched the lovely dark tan scrollwork struggle on. Jack was nervous, and it was cute. "They fit just fine, Jack. Now come on up here and let me give you your present." He laughed a nervous laugh and pulled the boot back off before he settled back down on the couch.

August in Texas was booming, made everything seem to give off a heat of its own, but the hot day besides, Lureen had a need. She's dressed carefully, pulled on her Christmas boots, a comfortable pair of jeans, and lovely shirt in blue and white, pulled up her hair and curled the ends, smacked her bright red wool felt hat on top. She felt like a human being again, after months of sitting home like cattle, suckling a baby and wipin' its spit-up and changing its diapers. Bobby could wait. Lureen had a need.

She went to the kitchen and fixed herself a sandwich. She sat and drank a lemonade, legs crossed in front of her, gaze falling to her yet-unworn gift boots. The insoles were soft, an' they were comfortable. She smiled, happy for today, for the clear weather, and a husband who finally had a day off from his rat-race as a new employee at Newsome's, an' still riding at the rodeo some weeks. Jack strode into the kitchen, looking frazzled, one small son draped over a shoulder.

"Well now, don't you look nice. What's the occasion?"

"Occasion? You're babysittin' for me. There's a couple bottles in the fridge." She rose up, forgetting her lunch, to show him where they were, explain how to heat them, explain where the diapers were, explain how to burp Bobby.

"Lureen, I ain't dumb. Get on."

"Alright."

"Where you goin' anyway?"

"Dan Post and I got a date with a horse."

Months wore on to years, years wore on to feelin' like more than years, Jack feelin' less like a husband an' more like a stranger. Lureen woke one shiny Texas fall mornin' and realized she didn't have much clue who the man in her bed was. She felt a harsh cold around the house, and new it couldn't be real, since Jack kept the temperature turned up way too high. Bobby was old enough for school now, and Lureen was old enough to feel her only usefulness was in cookin' and cleanin'. Jack didn't show her no appreciation. They hadn't had sex in half a year, an' even that felt alright. Lureen was always tired or busy, one or the other, and Jack was wasn't too interested. Mostly he seemed distant, worried about somethin'.

Lureen checked the clock and got out a bed. She got Bobby dressed for school and sent him towards the bus stop. She showered, curled her hair, and pressed "Jamaican Sunset" lips together. She chose a shirt in red and white, her favorite color, and jeans. She stopped to call, "Jack, get up, or you'll be late to work."

He mumbled in his dream, turned over moaned, and picked up his head.

"Just seeing if you were still asleep. You usually are." She pretended not ta see the stab of disappointment in his earnest eyes when he focused them on her, before he rose, not hiding the hard on she was sure was for his dream and not his wife.

She scurried, stocking-footed, to the kitchen, making eggs real quick.

About to slip on her brand new red cowboy boots, she fought back a stab, a sense of itching inside of her. She had a foot halfway in when she paused, jumped up, and rushed back to her closet. Lureen was feelin' right alone, her mamma away for the month to see her sister in Dallas, Bobby just starting school, Jack drifting away.

And right there in her closet they were. Shucking the red things off, Lureen fished out the well-worn tan leather and lizard skin. She pulled them own awful quickly, even as Jack was calling "these eggs mine?" from te kitchen.

"Sure are." She busted back into the kitchen. "You gotta sell the White today Jack. You remember that?"

"The what?"

"The 5542."

"Oh shit. Right."

"You didn't try it out."

"Lureen, it ain't gonna drive no different than the 5540." Dropping his plate in the sink, his fork skittered onto the floor. When Jack bent to pick it up, he hesitated just a second, before he rose, his eyes catching hers.

"Why're you wearing those?"

"Whose?"

"Those boots I gave you. Thought you liked those new red ones your daddy bought you."

"I do."

"Yeah, alright. Well, we better go." He was pulling on a tan leisure coat.

She wanted to say, _Do you still love me Jack Twist?_ She wanted to say, _Did you ever love me, Jack Twist?_ But she didn't really want those answers. She put her own dish in the sink.

But even though she fought it off, the memory of a Christmas Day came floating to her across the living room, and she understood why she'd put the boots on. If she couldn't get a hug from Jack, at least she could always get one from Dan Post.


End file.
